Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad

On the road (skies?) again. If it’s Boeing, I can’t even.

I had wanted to write about this for a while but the moment was not right. I just listened to Barnhardt Podcast episode 204 and then read Ann’s post about turbo cancer. if you don’t know, the young are developing aggressive forms of cancer (predominantly in the abdominal region) and dying quickly. This situation is unique to our moment in history. Now what could have happened over the last few years involving poisons and such that might have precipitated this?

The situation is indeed horrendous and we must all continue to pray for those who took the poison to be sure. And I have my own connection to this that I’d like to share.

In the spring of 2021 I discovered that one of my nieces (25 years-old at the time) who had been working at a pharmacy was actually injecting people with the jab and had taken it herself (at least one dose that I know of). It’s the “injecting others with it that really got me. You need all kinds of quasi-medical licensures in order to prescribe someone a pair of eyeglasses but anyone working the counter at a local drug shop can stick an experimental death jab in your arm. By the way, this niece is also my goddaughter so I feel especially responsible for setting her straight. I told her in no uncertain terms that she must not take another dose nor should she ever give it to another person again AND that she needed to go to confession. Although we didn’t have a falling out per se our relationship did cool considerably.

Flash forward to the fall of ‘23 when the same niece revealed to our family that she had been diagnosed with an aggressive stomach cancer. We all knew what it was from but that didn’t make it any better. A massive prayer chain began and we hoped for the best. A month after giving us the news, she was scheduled to go for a PET scan to see if this had spread and how bad it really was. Here’s the beautiful thing, friends. We have our own family saints. Just as Supernerd’s daughter Tiny Princess is a huge help to so many, we have our own little “Princess” in my niece’s sister Fiona. I may have even mentioned her in the past albeit not by name. Fiona was 23 months-old when she stumbled into the family’s swimming pool and drowned. She was baptized and could not have committed any personal sin. Ergo, Saint Fiona. We have to actually believe what we profess to believe, right? Boy has she helped me over the years. She also was my goddaughter.

So it really didn’t come as a shock to me when my niece informed me that her scans were miraculously negative and that they still show no sign of any anomalies. You read that right. The tumor is gone and she’s right as rain. So why do I share this story and why use her real name now? It is because I want people to call upon her. We have numerous tiny saints who have gone forth from this world who are only too eager to help – even if it’s only for the sake of bringing someone back into a state of grace or for obtaining the grace of baptism or a good confession. 

Ponder that for a few moments because people have asked me over the years how anyone could keep their faith after the loss of a child. I usually share with them a story that Fulton Sheen told in his collection Seven Words of Jesus and Mary. I’m paraphrasing because I do not have the book in front of me but you’ll understand the point.

“Sometimes the Good Shepherd, knowing that the sheep have grazed the field bare will pick up the littlest of the lambs and carry the babe up the hill – to higher ground, better ground. He does this knowing that the other sheep will look up and will follow up and be saved.”

My wife and I went on a date of sorts tonight. Her sister had gotten us tickets to see Tim McGraw. Before the show we stepped outside so yours truly could grab a smoke.

Standing on a terrace outside the arena, I looked over the balcony and noticed the man of the hour (and his wife Faith Hill too) walking from their tour bus into a service entrance.

“Tim!” I yelled out.

To my surprise he stopped dead in his tracks, looked up, and paused a good ten seconds for me to take a picture. Class act.

And by the way, I always “live like I was dying”. It’s called frequent confession.

Many of you know that I consider Frank Walker one of my heroes. Frank runs the Catholic news aggregator site Canon212. He has kindly posted this blog on his page many times (something which still amazes me). He did not ask me to do this and I never ask for money for anyone (let alone myself). That being said, Frank has this post up today on his site. Keep in mind that there are exactly three people in the Catholic “blogosphere” that I have ever donated to and Frank is one of them.

He is indeed the hardest working man in the business and we’d be SOL without his tireless and dedicated efforts. In your charity, please consider making a donation to help cover the costs of site hosting.

May God reward your efforts.

This evening I had the honor of standing guard for two hours over the arm of the Apostle St. Jude.

The priest who travels with the relic gave a good sermon at the Mass.

I prayed for some pretty lofty intentions. But something struck me as I prayed here. I couldn’t help but feel small and very humble. I wonder sometimes if my own “desperate causes” aren’t simply intentions that do not align with the Will of God. Only God knows for sure.

St. Jude, pray for us!

I’m not the greatest photog out there but this shot captured with an iPhone 12 (covered the lens with my eclipse glasses) really struck me.

I took this on my front lawn in Texas just as the moon was starting to take a bite out of the sun and it almost looks like a cross is emanating from the disc, almost like a monstrance…

God is marvelous to us, His sinful people.

Let us heed this as the warning to repent I am sure it is.

On that note, I stopped in at confession this morning. Asked my guardian angel and the Blessed Mother to help me make a good confession. I stepped into the box and started speaking the few things I had planned. And then, almost without realizing it, I concluded with, “and for all of my previous sins including…” where I went on to list about 20 things from my past. Wasn’t planning to make a general confession today but I’m glad I did.

And then I went home and witnessed the eclipse. Roosters crowed at 1:40 PM. The porch light came on. Birds flew into the trees for shelter. My dog, well he slept right through it but that’s to be expected. My mother-in-law stopped by with tacos for everyone because why not? At the moment of totality, the public school kids are few blocks away let out a loud cheer. My neighbors began applauding. And I stared at the sun without the glasses and I was fine and it was beautiful. I saw Jupiter and Venus clear as day. And of course I heard the celebratory shotgun blast from somewhere in the neighborhood because this is Texas after all.

And then when it was over we all stopped and offered a few Aves in honor of Blessed Mother and to thank God for this once-in-a-lifetime gift.

Sun and moon, bless the Lord!

One of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen!